


Orphic

by pressedinthepages



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Kinda, Smut, one of my favs, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: Having been left bereft, you take matters into your own hands.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 32





	Orphic

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request [ I have a smutty Jaskier x (female) reader request: Reader sitting on Jaskiers lap and suddenly being very aware of his thigh pressing against her (and Jaskier notices too of course 😏), so the whole situation ends in her riding his thigh. 👀 ] oh tea, fuck i love this

_ greek. adj. mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.  _

The moon is low in the sky when Jaskier makes it back to your shared room in the inn, high off the adrenaline of a night of performance. He sweeps in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before shucking his doublet off and draping it over the back of a chair. He then proceeds to sprawl out in the soft, cushy chair before the fireplace. His notebook rests on his thigh, his quill scratching sporadically as new inspiration strikes. 

Now, though, the moon hangs high over the stars, watching as your knee bounces impatiently where you sit. While Jaskier himself is a  _ tremendously  _ patient person (when he wants to be,) you are quite the opposite. He gets sucked into the worlds within his own mind, leaving you to your own devices. It’s rare that he drifts so far, but you can’t help but yearn to draw him back in. 

Jaskier hums lightly under his breath as you stand and slink across the room to settle behind him. You start to gently run your fingers through his hair, relishing in the soft gasp that falls from his lips. His head lolls under the attention of your fingers, his entire body relaxing with just the barest touch. Your hand falls to Jaskier’s neck as you circle around to stand in front of him. The fire warms your back as your shadow falls over Jaskier, bathing him in deep shadows that pull the brightness of his eyes even further. 

Your hand cups Jaskier’s cheek as he closes his journal, your thumb just barely brushing over the slight stubble that has sprung over his jaw. “Oh, my love,” he murmurs, “I have been terribly neglectful of you.”

You nod, letting him set his hands on your hips and pull you close. He settles you on his lap facing him, straddling one of his legs. You hear his notebook hit the floor as you tuck your nose into the crook of his neck, basking in the all-encompassing warmth around you. Jaskier wraps his arms around your waist, his hands slowly moving up and down your spine. He hums a sweet melody as he shifts beneath you, leaving you suddenly aware of the muscle of his thigh pressing against your heat.

_ “Jaskier,”  _ you gasp, your hips jolting of their own accord. His hands move to cup your ass, pressing you firmly against the swell of his leg. 

“Stay just like this, my darling,” he whispers. You feel the delicate silk of your nightdress slip up with Jaskier’s hands, goosebumps blooming in its wake. You only move enough for him to lift the dress over your head, settling back against him as he lets the garment hit the floor. His fingers toy with the waistband of your underclothes, and you feel his lips, warm and insistent on your shoulder, over your neck, anywhere and everywhere that he can reach. 

Jaskier’s hands trail up your hips, over the soft flesh of your belly and cupping your breasts. His lips capture the peak of one between them, sucking lightly and causing you to arch further into his grasp. He sits up with a cock-sure smirk, shifting his hips so the hardness of his cock presses firmly against your own leg. “Stand up, my dear. Take those damned things off.” Jaskier’s voice is warm honey lined with smoky arousal, curling up from around your heart and settling down between your thighs.

You follow his instructions, standing on more than a little bit shaky legs. Jaskier stays seated as he fits his fingers into the band of your underclothes and pulls them down, helping you step out of them with a hand on your waist. 

“Fucking hells, I’ll never tire of looking at you like this.” You flush under his gaze, moving to pull him towards the bed. But he only shakes his head, patting his knee lightly. 

You carefully kneel astride Jaskier once more, threading your fingers into the gentle waves of his hair. You can feel the instant that your core makes contact with the rich linen of Jaskier’s trousers, your pleasure multiplying tenfold. 

You moan into his neck, rocking your hips against him. You are surrounded by Jaskier in every sense, too much and not enough in the same breath. The scent of him is all-encompassing, sandalwood and lavendar and musk. You can hear how his breath hitches into a soft groan as your hips accelerate, setting a break-neck pace. 

Everywhere he touches you feels alight with pleasure, his leg between yours, pressing up against you and flexing with every thrust you make. You lean back, catching those glorious blue eyes that are half-lidded with lust and promises of a long night intertwined in eachother. Your fingers grasp at his hair and you fall into him, your lips finding his in something dirty and desperate. He tastes of mulled wine and cherry cake, just as sweet and indulgent as the man himself. 

“Yes, my love, fall apart on me…” Jaskier’s voice has fallen huskier, dark edges pulling you to the edge. And then he pulls you down,  _ hard,  _ flexing his leg in the same motion, and your climax snapping the whisper-thin strands keeping you together. You shatter in his arms, taut as a bowstring before your hips move erratically, prolonging the pleasure. Jaskier croons in your ear as you come down, his own arousal still throbbing against your leg. 

Jaskier adjusts your legs so you straddle him fully before standing, lifting you into his arms in the same motion. The only thing that your orgasm-rattled mind can do is press your lips against his neck as he carries you across the room and lays you on the bed. Your eyes flutter open to watch him undress, immediately drawn to the wet spot dressing the pale blue fabric over his thigh. Jaskier undresses himself quickly, with only a bit of teasing as his underclothes are removed. You quirk your brow as Jaskier climbs atop of you, his length pressing insistently into the meat of your leg. 

“My turn,” he smirks, his hips setting his own rhythm.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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